


Kinktober 2017: Week Three

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Kinktober 2017 [3]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, M/M, Male Lactation, More will be added, Mpreg, Sounding, Tentacles, Whipping, Xenophilia, plant!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:09:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: A place for all the Kinktober prompts days 15-21!





	1. Day 15: Sounding, Object Insertion, Rhack

**Author's Note:**

> Written with Jennpy's Little Shop AU in mind! Slight dubcon warning here.

Rhys could hardly move.

He’d been taken by surprise—how was he supposed to know his _plant_ had taken on a human form, much less one that wanted a piece of him—and how he was bound in the clutches of the powerful hybrid with more and more smooth, coiling tendrils winding up his clothed thighs.

He could feel the thick chuckles of the hybrid all around him, the fluid oozing from the tentacles seeping through the fabric of his pants as their gooey tips pulled at the crotch of his pants. He squirmed, trying to press his thighs together but to no avail—before long, his pants and boxers had been shoved down his hips, leaving his pale cock exposed and half-hard in the air.

“ _Nnngh_ …” Rhys moaned, glasses starting to slip down the bridge of his nose as one of the tendrils started to curl around his cock like vines on a marble pillar. He shivered in the plant hybrid’s grip, the hem of his sweater riding up his belly as more and more of the glutinous tentacles groped his helpless body. He shut his eyes closed tightly, hoping he could weather through this with his dignity intact, up until the point when the slick tip of one of the tendrils reached the top of his cock and decided to worm its way inside.

Rhys’ eyes flew open with a cry as he jerked violently in the plant’s grasp, his glasses finally slipping off completely and clattering somewhere on the floor. His cock throbbed as the tendril pressed further inside of his cock, making his belly twist in uncomfortable arousal as the intimate nooks of his body were thoroughly invaded by the hybrid. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, head flopping back helplessly as his cock twitched and clenched around the thin, undulating tentacle.

And just when Rhys thought he couldn’t grow any more embarrassed, something thick and ridged started to press up against his tight behind. It felt thick yet organic, like a fleshy pinecone rubbing up between his cheeks and making him shiver at the alien shape and size of it all. He clenched his ass up tight, turning around as best as he could, perhaps to plead with the hybrid to let him go—but he was met with only a ruddy, beet-colored face flecked with piercing eyes and a row of glinting, needle-sharp teeth.

Rhys yelped as the shape at his ass suddenly shoved inside, and through the blur of uncomfortable tears, he could see the plant laughing.

“If you think that’s bad, sapling, just wait ’til I give you my cock.”


	2. Day 15: Lapdances, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little taste of succubus Rhys ;)

Jack figured the club must be getting in the Halloween spirit.

There were plenty of girls and guys on the stage and flirting through the tables wearing costumes, from sexy angels to sexy kitties to sexy pirates—just anything that showed off a lot of skin. So he wasn’t exactly put off by the skimpy little devil costume the dancer he was drawn to was wearing. In fact, he was kind of getting into it—the young man’s tight ass looked perfect in a sleek black pair of spandex shorts, the matching crop-top stretched across his pecs and showing off intricate tattoos splashed across his chest that Jack felt like he could get lost in. The horns atop the young man’s auburn hair glittered in the flashing lights of the club, and the sleek little wings sprouting from his back bounced and and flapped with every little movement as he straddled Jack’s lap.

The CEO was the type of guy who could have anyone he wanted, so some might say he was a fool to pay for a dance, but it was a nice way to relax, and the private, reserved booth provided some isolation from the rest of the slimy creeps shoving their crumpled dollars into crotches and cleavage.

Smoke curled above his head as he pulled away his cigar, stabbing it out into the ashtray and laying his full attention on the cutie rubbing his clothed crotch up against Jack’s stomach. Something slithered up Jack’s thigh and he started slightly, eyes falling briefly away from the dancer to find the leathery tail from the young man’s costume laying over his leg. Huh.

“Up here, _big boy_ ,” the dancer purred, sliding a long finger underneath Jack’s chin. The CEO relaxed, letting out a pleasant moan as he reclined against the chair. He felt hazy, suddenly, the alcohol he’d had before picking his dancer now weighing heavily in his body. He hiccuped, nose twitching. He smelled smoke…but his cigar was out? It didn’t have the burn of tobacco smoke, either—much more putrid, like sulfur.

He furrowed his brows at the dancer as his sharp fingernails dragged down his chest, practically flaying open his dress shirt. He gazed dumbly at his bare chest, at the glossy tent in the young man’s briefs as he rutted against Jack’s stout belly.

“Heh…don’t think I…paid for this…” he mumbled as fingers loosened his belt and pulled at his zipper. He was hard in his pants, like _fully_ hard, not the half-chub he usually sported from the club dancers.

The young man laughed, his voice echoing weirdly despite the open booth. Jack furrowed his brow as he looked at the dancer. Had his eyes always been bright green?

The young man placed a finger warningly on Jack’s lips as he made to open his mouth. One of those glowing eyes vanished with a wink.

“Shhh, handsome. It’s on the house.”


	3. Day 16: Pegging, Masks, Moxxi/Rhys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a weird ship for this one! But with some implied Rhack too :)

The pretty boy underneath her writhes, whining as her bright red silicone cock drives into him over and over again. The leather of his collar is practically hidden under the messy auburn locks that cascade down the back of his neck, flesh bulging out from the strap of weathered black biting tight around his throat.

Moxxi tuts, yanking on the chain leash and pulling his neck back, his spine bending in an attractive downward arch as another thrust hits the jackpot against his prostate, making him cry out. His voice is muffled against the stifling mask she’d strapped on over his face before she’d undressed him—it’s pure, stark white, patterned with blushing cheeks and painted with demure eyes, perfectly sculpted and static unlike her own paint which is starting to smear and blur with her sweat.

She licks her lips, tasting the melting wax of her lipstick.

Moxxi knows he will go back to Jack, they always do, slobbering like dogs after his cock and his ego and the fragile veneer of his gold-plated promises, and while there’s something dirty about constantly catching them on the rebound, she still plows every last one into the tattered velvet of her bed in hope that one of her thrusts will finally hammer some sense home.


	4. Day 16: Waxplay, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omegaverse warning!

“You are my queen bee,” Jack chuckled lowly as he stroked his hand down the curve of Rhys’ spine, “it’s high time you were given a proper pair of wings.”

The light in the room has dimmed, bed illuminated only by a soft ring of candles, some tall and skinny, some short and squat, all flickering golden light over Rhys’ bare, outstretched form. The omega lies out on his belly, forearms folded and resting underneath his cheek. One eye looks up and over his shoulder, watching as Jack tips the small glass votive, a brilliant drop of wax falling like a lost coin upon Rhys’ bare back. The omega twitches only slightly, a pleased groan leaving his lips.

Jack’s large, brutish hands move with unknown precision, drizzling the honeycombed shape of wings over the shoulder blades of his omega, watching it trickle and congeal in patterns, forming with the steady rise and fall of Rhys’ breathing, with the barest twitches of his flesh. Rhys skin prickles at the wax’s warmth, fine hairs caught in the rapidly solidifying wingspan glinting over his pale skin. Jack smiles, expression proud, intimate, before setting the votive aside and leaning in close, pressing a tender kiss on the sleek bump of Rhys’ spine—right where the two golden wings of his queen would meet, should he ever have the power to make them real


	5. Day 17: Blood/Gore, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rival CEO AU! :)

The Atlas CEO bled so nicely.

Even when Jack was seething mad at the omega’s taunts, he could appreciate the slender thing’s intrinsic beauty. The way rub red spilled out over a taut, proud neck, dribbling from the yawning cut down to pool in the slim ledge of his collarbone.

“How can a little brat like you be so pretty?” Jack hissed, sliding the tip of the blade over Rhys’ twitching neck.

Jack didn’t make much use of knives, he usually preferred pistols or his own two hands. But seeing how the blade cut through Rhys’ skin like butter, he might have to change that in the future.

Rhys’ hands were gripping tightly at the edge of the desk behind him, fingers clenching so hard Jack half expected them to split through the tight leather of his gloves. The omega’s eyebrows were furrowed, sharp upper teeth biting into his lower lip to suppress whatever urges were tumbling through his stomach as Jack brought new drops of blood to the surface of his skin. Jack groaned, pressing closer and slotting one thigh between Rhys’ legs. Their respective, hard cocks pressed up against each other’s thighs, and the microscopic little jerk of Rhys’ hips didn’t escape Jack’s notice.

The bloodied blade clattered to the floor as the alpha leaned forward, hands pinning Rhys’ wrists down against the desk as he nearly bent the omega backwards over it. His fangs were sharp, eyes hungry as the scent of blood and trembling omega arousal filled his nostrils. Rhys finally released his lower lip with a gasp, his nails digging into the hardwood of the desk top as he finally rutted violently back against Jack’s legs, boots now standing on tiptoe.

“You…are _so_ predictable…” Rhys groaned as Jack’s fangs found his neck, licking at the shallow slash and leaving Rhys’ throat tacky with a mixture of saliva and blood. Jack lifted his head and licked his lips, a smear of red trailing off from the corner of his smirk.

“What can I say, pumpkin? Sometimes I gotta stay on brand.”


	6. Day 17: Costume, Massage, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omegaverse/Mpreg warning!

Jack knew that Rhys had a perfectly good pair of flats that matched the rest of his outfit in the closet, but _no_ , the kid just had to go with the heels.

In all fairness, they hadn’t been _that_ high, only about two inches and they made him look _damn_ good. They’d helped perk up his butt and curl his spine even further than it was already being pulled by the slight roundness in his stomach. And the glistening obsidian heels and the gold spats really accented the rest of his costume, matching his black and gold pinstriped pants and the honeycomb-embroidered blazer that had stretched over his abdomen and flattered his growing figure. The iridescent wings bobbing against his back and the fuzzy antennae bouncing atop his head had been a little bit tacky, but at the end of the night Rhys had had fun and looked pretty damn good while doing it.

However, the excitement of the evening quickly drained as soon as they got home and Rhys flopped down with a hiss on the bed. He whined, hand atop his stomach as he toed uselessly at his boots, eventually looking up to his mate with frustration shining in his eyes.

“Can…” Rhys started, worrying his lip. “Can you just um. You know. Can you help me get my shoes off?”

Jack wisely tempered the snark reply that bubbled up in his mouth, simply nodding as he woozily sunk to his knees—damn blood orange sangria, shooting his balance in the heart—and began to unzip the tight heels from around Rhys’ swollen feet. The omega hissed in pain as Jack pulled the shoes off, his toes curling as he grasped handfuls of bedding.

“ _Ugh_ , okay, maybe the heels were a bad idea,” Rhys grumbled, trying to flex his aching feet, “but I look so good in them, it’s not _fair_.”

“You really do, pumpkin, like no lying it makes your butt _pop_ ,” Jack agreed, taking one of Rhys’ feet in both hands. He didn’t really know too much in terms of massages, but he’d rubbed his mate’s sore spots before and the kid had seemed to like it, so…

He pressed both thumbs, gently but firm, into the arch of Rhys’ foot, and as if he’d pushed a button Rhys was gasping. Jack froze, looking up to see whether he’d hurt the omega but—no, actually, Rhys was blushing and smiling down at him. The young man’s toes wiggled encouragingly.

“ _Oooh_ , do that again. That feels _so_ good.”

It wasn’t longer before Jack’s fingers had traveled up from Rhys’ feet to his ankles, and from his ankles to his calves, and by the time Jack was fiddling with Rhys’ waistband so he could ostensibly continue his massage the omega was already half-hard, and well—it would be uncouth for an alpha to ignore his pregnant mate’s _obvious_ need.


	7. Day 18: Leather, Masturbation, Rhysquez

Rhys’ legs looked practically poured into those leather pants.

They clung to every curve of his thighs and ass, bunching in tight little wrinkles under his round cheeks as he canted his hips to the side, leaning forward to ladle some more punch into his glass. Hugo swallowed roughly as he watched from across the room, ignoring the other party goers even as they tried to strike up small talk with him. He focused on Rhys as the young man straightened up, running a hand over his stiffly sprayed hair as he drank deeply from his glass. A little bit of pink liquid trickled from the corner of his mouth, dripping gently on his tight white T-shirt. 

Hugo hissed through clenched teeth. The plated metal of his pinkie clinked against his own glass as he downed a mouthful of punch, wiping the sugary drink from his beard as he rose to his feet.

* * *

“Hah….what exactly….are you supposed to be?” Rhys grunted as Hugo rubbed their cocks together, keeping Rhys pinned against the wall of the supply closet. His leather pants had been so tight that Hugo had just barely been able to zip them down around Rhys’ swollen cock and allow it to spring free.

“I’m a bear,” Hugo groaned as he squeezed both of their shafts in one large hand. Rhys giggled.

“I’ll say.”

“N-No, like…” Hugo pointed with his free hand up to the fuzzy black ears nestled atop his head, “see?”

Rhys huffed, rolling his eyes even as his hips rutted forward into Hugo’s hands. He clenched his fingers into the shoulders of Hugo’s suit, rubbing the fabric.

“T-That’s gotta be….the lamest costume here…and Jim is dressed as a cardboard loaderbot.”

Hugo nipped Rhys’ jawline.

“Sue me, I didn’t want to make an _idiot_ out of myself.”

“Oh yeah. That would be a shame,” Rhys replied wryly, grunting as he pushed his hips up into Hugo’s grip. Little strands of hair were starting to fall out of his stylish coif, studded leather jacket starting to slide off his shoulders. He felt his balls tighten, but before he had a chance to come he was being flipped about and shoved against the wall of the closet. He scowled, annoyed grunt on his lips as he looked over his shoulder only to be met by Hugo’s lips as the older man jerked himself through his own orgasm, coming bright white on the tight ass of Rhys’ leather pants.


	8. Day 18: Daddy, Rhack

“Please daddy, please?”

Rhys is fairly well-behaved, for the most part, keeping his voice mostly to a whisper during the majority of the video conference. Jack keeps his hand atop the young man’s head, stroking his hair as Rhys rubs his chin against Jack’s inner thigh. Honestly, the CEO is only half paying attention to the people droning on. It’s important that he _looks_ like he’s paying attention but honestly, with the automatic audio transcription program he’d set up, he could always just review those notes later on to catch anything he missed.

He hushes Rhys softly, out of the corner of his mouth, even as the young man’s hands start to drift towards the CEO’s crotch. Jack’s features twitch softly, a command stayed on his lips—the speakers on the conference were giving their final remarks—even if Rhys went 0 to 100 and deep throated his cock right off the bat, he could probably hold out.

Jack’s fingers trail from the back of Rhys’ head, down to the tie of the baby-blue halter top resting at the back of his neck. He plays with the fluffy bow as Rhys quietly pulls his zipper down.

Jack barely notices when the conference actually ends, screen replaced by the Hyperion logo. He’s probably screwed up a little bit by not properly signing off, but the department heads are more than used to Jack’s antics, so whatever—with business done with, it’s time to properly indulge in his baby boy’s hot little mouth.

He presses his thighs around Rhys’ throat as the young man’s head bobs up and down, lips suckling Jack’s cock as if it’s a tasty little treat. Jack can see Rhys little butt perked up behind him, the bright pink of the plug sticking out from besides the lacy thong of his underwear.

Jack shudders pleasantly in a lazy orgasm as he spills down Rhys’ throat. The young man eagerly drinks every little drop, eyes fluttering closed as his mouth fills with the CEO’s warm seed. Jack purrs like a cat, spine feeling like jelly as he relaxes into his chair.

“What do you say, kiddo?” Jack smirks as he slides his fingers underneath Rhys’ chin, tipping it up. The young man smiles, licking the cream from his lips.

“Thank you, daddy.”


	9. Day 19: Sex Work, Rhysothy, Rhackothy

“Jack, c’mon, this is really embarrassing…” Tim whined, shooting a desperate look towards his boss. But Jack just stood there, arms crossed, with an amused smirk on his face.

“Nahh, Timmy, I can’t have a little _virgin_ body double. You can’t walk the walk and talk the talk as the big daddy himself when you haven’t even got your dick wet yet. So that’s why we’re gonna use little—what was your name, sugar?”

“Uh, Rhys,” the young man currently straddling Tim on the bed replied. He was fairly nondescript for a call boy, wearing cute little jeans shorts and a white tank top, but he was lanky and pretty and had swirly blue tattoos all up and down his arm that matched the implant in his eye.He’d told the agency to send up “someone special” and they hadn’t disappointed. Jack was pretty curious to see what secret, sexy functions might have been built into the bright yellow cybernetic arm he sported, but it was Timmy’s turn first. _Then_ Jack could take a crack at this Rhys—maybe _with_ Tim, if the first taste got the kid over his shyness.

“Right. So, we’re gonna use Rhysie here to show you a real good time. You want that, Timmy? Don’t lie to daddy. You think Rhys is pretty, don’t you?” He purred, rubbing a hand over the escort’s shoulder. Rhys leaned into the touch, but kept most of his attention on Tim—a real professional, Jack liked that.

“Um…yeah…” Tim seemed to be warming up a little bit, thank god. His hands were starting to creep up Rhys’ long legs, fingers rubbing with cautious interest against the escort’s thighs.

“Hehe, good, ‘cause you two are gonna get _gooood_ and acquainted.” Jack winked. “I paid big bucks for this cutie, Timmy, so you better screw my money’s worth outta him.”

The kid was either emboldened or scared, but either way, he ended up grabbing Rhys by the front and pulling him in for a hot, sloppy kiss that had Jack’s own cock stirring in his pants.

Oh yeah. He was definitely paying Rhysie overtime for a round two.


	10. Day 19: Olfactophilia, Nipple Play, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mpreg, Omegaverse, and Male Lactation warning :)

“Good god, sweetheart, you smell so damn good,” Jack groaned as he pressed his nose along the side of his neck, inhaling deep lungfuls of scent as his hands crept up the front of his omega’s body

Rhys wanted to tell him that he smelled like any old omega in the thick of pregnancy and that Jack was just letting sentimentality cloud his senses, but the alpha’s voice was so low and thick over him like honey and his cock was so wonderful and in so deep, and those _hands_ were rubbing over his swollen chest and pinching at his puffy nipples, so all he could do was mewl and curl his toes as he ground back into Jack’s lap.

“Other omegas _wish_ they were as big and pretty as you are. Smelling so sweet. So fertile. So _full_.”

Jacks fingers pinched at Rhys’ swollen nipples, hands palming the omega’s heavy chest. Rhys gasped, feeling warmth throb in his breasts until something wet broke through the skin, leaving the omega’s flushed red with arousal and embarrassment as he leaked into Jack’s hands.

“F-Fuck, sorry, sorry, that’s… _nnghh_ ….gross…” Rhys started, only to cry out when Jack bit down on his neck. His fingers only pinched and rubbed harder into his chest, making Rhys writhe in his alpha’s lap.

“Don’t you _ever_ apologize, kitten, you have no frikkin’ idea how sexy this is, huh?” Jack panted, licking like a dog over the fresh bite mark he’d made against his mate’s throat. He squeezed Rhys’ breasts in both hands, milk swelling and dripping from his sore, dusty pink nipples. Jack inhaled sharply, a shaky groan trembling from his lips as he basked in Rhys’ scent.

“Like….like Mercenary Day morning, sweetie. Like ice cream and apple pie rolled up in one sexy, musky little morsel,” Jack chuckled hoarsely as he kept one hand pressed against Rhys’ tender chest, the other traveling down the curve of his belly to where his cock was strained and pressed up against the rounded underside. Rhys’ whimpered, gasping as Jack’s broad hands grasped his shaft and rubbed his oversensitive flesh. It wasn’t long before Jack had Rhys bent over, stomach resting comfortably against a bed of pillows as he plunged his cock inside of him, the alpha’s face pressed into his omega’s hair to draw breath after breath of that intoxicating scent.


	11. Day 20: Pet Play, Rhack

Rhys panted as he jogged through the dim light of the hallway, looking for a place to hide. He took the occasional glance over his shoulder, breath puffing out in fearful little huffs. He swore he could hear heavy footfalls and erratic scratching behind him, but he saw nothing.

A sudden, snarling growl burst out from the empty air behind him, and suddenly Rhys was knocked forward, yelping as he fell to the floor, skidding slightly against the hard wood. He raised his arms as he felt a heavy weight suddenly land atop him, ready to fend off whatever had knocked him over until invisible claws gripped his wrists and forced them down besides his head. Rhys gasped, wriggling against the cold wooden floor as he glared at the blank air before him—except now it was starting to crackle with visible bluish energy.

“N-No! Bad boy! Bad!” Rhys shouted, earning him a growl and an unexpected nip to his lip. The air above him started to shimmer, formless blue gradually solidifying atop him as the creature—now with prey in his grasp—shed his invisibility.

“Got you,” Jack growled, tongue licking over the pointed veneers applied to his teeth. With the help of contacts, his eyes had been swallowed up in bright pupil-less blue, giving him an eerie, animal gaze. The fake wings attached to his arms and the tail sprouting up from his tailbone were slightly less convincing, but it was hard to focus on the construction of Jack’s costume when the older man leaned in close, breathing hot and deep against his prey’s face.

Rhys shivered, thrilled little grin spreading across his cheeks.

“Heh….Jack….pretty sure stalkers don’t _talk_.”

Jack’s teeth brushed up against the slope of Rhys’ jawline, teeth pricking into his skin. Rhys cringed, gasping tight. The cloaking watch hung heavily from Jack’s lapel, skimming against Rhys’ chest as he pressed his tongue into the kid’s mouth, pushing their bodies closer.

“You wanna see what I have in my pants, kitten?” Jack snickered as he pulled up, looking down at his helpless, horny prey. Jack’s crotch rubbed against Rhys’ leg, and he could instantly tell it was _far_ bulkier than usual.

“Got it custom-made. Just like the real thing.” Rhys could feel flexible silicone crawling up his thighs as if it were alive. Jack waggled his tongue between his long teeth as Rhys squirmed and grunted beneath him.

“What do you say?”

“I say—“ Rhys gasped as he rubbed his thighs together, catching the tip of the cock-sheath between them, “—I needed this inside me five minutes ago.”


	12. Day 20: Threesome (Or More), Rhackothy, Rhysquez

“Oooh, that’s good, Timmy, real good” Jack grunted his approval over Rhys’ shoulder as Tim pulled out of the young man’s pussy with a long, thick _squelch_. Rhys writhed around in Jack’s lap, moaning at the loss of pressure.

“Ah ah ah, Rhysie, we don’t wanna let all our hard work slide all outta you, huh? Not to mention the _mess_ you’ll make,” Jack cooed, voice heavy with false concern as he slid a huge hand over Rhys’ thigh, cupping him between the legs. Rhys was damp with his own come and positively _dripping_ with that of Jack and Tim. The CEO tutted as he pressed his palm flat against Rhys’ entrance, keeping all that warm seed inside of him.

“Hmmm, what to do, what to do….Tim, how about you go ahead and bring our special guest? Think it’s his time to shine,” Jack cackled, licking and kissing up Rhys’ shuddering neck as Tim went around behind the chair, quickly returning with a large, hirsute man on the end of a long chain leash. Jack watched as Tim pressed on his shoulders, the man willingly sinking to his knees between Rhys’ spread legs. Jack’s eyes roved over the muscles in the man’s shoulders and chest, his torso pleasantly rounded out with fat. The ropes Tim had bound around his arms and pecs cut ever so slightly into his flesh, the skin reddening around the silky yellow cord of the ropes. He made a pleasant enough sight, and considering how patiently he had waited, watched, as Jack and Tim both took turns with Rhys, Jack figured he deserved to finally have his treat.

“You’ve been real good this evening, kiddo, so you know what? I’m gonna let you clean up little Rhysie here. Make sure you get every last drop outta him, ‘kay? I don’t wanna have to clean up a mess after I’ve already done all the work.”

The burly man barely hesitated once Jack had given him the word. Tim let out a little bit of slack on the leash, watching along with Jack as the man scooted forward on his knees. Jack carefully drew his hand away from Rhys’ hole, leaving him uncovered and leaking before the other man’s eager mouth. His beard brushed up against Rhys’ taint as he pressed thick lips between the fold’s of Rhys’ pussy. Jack felt Rhys shudder in his grip, a tense moan warbling from his lips as his spent arousal was forcibly rewound. The thick, sloppy noises of the man licking cum from Rhys’ hole filled the air. Jack shuddered, feeling his spent cock start to stiffen underneath Rhys’ tailbone. His fingers clenched into Rhys’ plush thighs as he looked dreamily up at Tim, chuckling at the bright flush of the body double’s cheeks.

“I’m thinkin’ we might have another round in us after all.”


	13. Day 21: Impact Play, Rhackisha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for whipping :)

“Don’t go too easy on him, Nisha,” Jack called from where he was practically reclining across his chair, one leg slung over the arm as he kept his thighs spread wide. His hand rubbed absently at his dick, wanting to work himself up slowly and not whip it out _just_ yet. Not when the show had just begun.

Nisha had always looked good in leather, and she looked even better when she was standing, body wrapped with studded black and heather-purple straps, above the pale, bound young man crouched on the floor.

As hot as it would be to see Nisha thrash Rhys with her bullwhip, that might end up, uh, permanently ruining the kid, so instead she was whaling on his bare back with a sleek black flogger. Every time one of those many leather tails lashed across Rhys’ spine, leaving long red welts in their wake, Jack felt his cock stiffen another millimeter.

Jack had forfeited the gag because he wanted to hear Rhys scream, and the kid certainly hadn’t disappointed him. Nisha whipped scream after scream out of him until Rhys’ throat grew hoarse, wavering cries rubbing against his throat like sandpaper. His body grew weak from the pain and arousal, eventually keeling forward until his chest pressed against the floor, thighs shaking as he struggled to prop himself up on his knees. Nisha gleefully laid into the newly bared flesh, her flog slapping across Rhys’ asscheeks and making the young man weep with agonized need.

Once Nisha started grinding the butt of her flogger into the plug shoved deep into Rhys’ hole, Jack finally decided to pull his dick out. He sat up straighter, sliding his thigh off the arm of the chair and planting both feet against the floor.

“Bring him here, Nish.”

Rhys whimpered as the woman lightly swatted at his thighs, forcing him to crawl forward, struggling against the soreness in his body towards Jack’s chair. Jack cooed at the kid falsely as he grew closer. He stopped Rhys with a waggling finger as the young man opened his mouth. He shushed Rhys’ disappointed whine as Nisha pressed the handle of her flogger into his cheek, turning the young man around until his thrashed, swollen back and rear was presenting towards Jack’s eager gaze. The CEO pumped his cock, eyes roving over every individual lash on Rhys’ pristine pale skin. Each prick of blood wound his groin tighter and tighter until he finally snapped, splashing glistening strands of cum artfully over the raw criss-cross of Rhys’ flesh.


	14. Day 21: Double (or More) Penetration, Shower/Bath, Rhack, Aliens/Rhys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xenophilia in this one!

“Heh, _oh_ , okay boys, be gentle—“ Rhys tittered, warm fizzing water splashing against his thighs as one of the aliens grabbed his ass, lifting it up out of the water until Rhys was practically standing on tip-toes. Most of the creatures in the tub were much bigger than him, though most were thankfully pretty humanoid in general build and looks. Rhys wasn’t sure if he’d be as into this if they were balls of tendrils or solid energy—though, _maybe_ —

Any ventures into future fetishes were squelched as the alien behind him pushed aside his tight blue thong and pressed the thick, flared head of his cock against Rhys’ hole. The young man moaned, legs going to jelly just in time for a pair of long tentacles to grasp around his ankles underneath the thick, colorful foam bubbling along the steamy surface of the hot tub. Rhys squirmed as his legs were lifted up, parted around the waist of a sleek, lizard-like creature. He eagerly hugged the alien closer, his cock looking diminutive next to the undulating, neon green genitalia that quickly wrapped about his slim shaft. 

Heavy splashes echoed all around Rhys as more and more aliens approached him, communicating to one another in a myriad of clicks and squawks and the occasional sounds that Rhys could vaguely identify as English, but understanding the creatures starting to fuck and fondle him was pretty low on his list, far below enjoying said fucking and fondling. Before long, he wasn’t sure which cocks or even how many were stuffed inside of him, nor what the slick, ribbed appendages stuffing his mouth even _were_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he was jostled between an array of claws and laps and cocks and tentacles. He was passed around the hot tub, the now-filthy water swirling amongst the creatures as they each had a chance to release deep inside of the willing, slippery human. 

Rhys was so spacey and sore by the end that he barely noticed when the bubbles died down, water steadily growing cold as his alien lays slunk out of the jacuzzi, back towards the bar or dance floor. Rhys moaned, head rolling back, feeling the thump of the music throbbing through his entire achey form. He whimpered as he rubbed his stomach, feeling how stuffed and swollen it had become thanks to the come of his dozens of alien lovers.

He twitched at the sudden slap of wet footsteps, fearing another creature taking interest in him when he was already exhausted, but when he tilted his chin back to look up, he was met with the stern face of Handsome Jack.

Right. Jack had brought him here to “mingle” with some alien ambassadors that he was trying to get sweet with. Rhys gulped, cheeks suddenly burning in remembrance of his behavior. He was about to open his mouth and defend himself, to lay blame on the weird, glowing bright blue drinks that had just kept coming and coming, when Jack’s face broke out in a grin, his laugh echoing throughout the now-empty pool deck.

“Congratulations, kiddo. You just secured diplomatic relationships with about ten different alien races there.”


End file.
